User blog:ReDquinox/By Shield And By Faith - Chapter I
---- “Who is this?” One of the younger Dunmer in the room asked. “Your new sister,” Curate Faver replied, gesturing at Vyrine. “She is the newest Aspirant; she just arrived.” “For real?” The Dunmer who had just spoken, an exceptionally tall guy with sharp, gaunt features, exclaimed. “She’s so small!” It was true. Vyrine was most definitely the smallest person in the room, standing half a head short of the second smallest, a wide-shouldered girl with eyes that were remarkably amber instead of red. Nonetheless, that did not change the fact that Vyrine immediately decided she did not like the tall one. “Oh shut up Davys, not everyone can be as freakishly tall as you,” another of the Aspirants huffed. He, like ‘Bull’ - no, Bralon, Vyrine corrected herself - had a square jaw offset by a sharp nose, though he was clearly a lot younger. It dawned on Vyrine that the two might be related. “Quit your squabbling,” Curate Faver commanded. “Show her around, and then show her to her bunk.” Things sure were going fast for Vyrine. Not too long ago, she had been in another room, signing some documents to officiate her initiation. After that, she had been brought to a shrine to make it official before the eyes of the ancestors, the good Daedra, and the Almsivi. Upon conclusion of the ritual, Curate Faver had brought her without delay to the Aspirants’ quarters to meet her fellows. Now she was here, being led to the dormitory by the one who resembled Bralon. “Sorry about Davys, he’s a right N’wah,” He spoke up, interrupting Vyrine’s train of thought. She looked up. “Oh, uh… right, yeah. Don’t worry about it.” “You’ll get used to him, sooner or later,” he assured her. “I’m Garvis, by the way.” “Vyrine.” “Nice to meet you, Vyrine,” Garvis smiled, shaking her hand. “So, are you from around here?” “Yeah, I am,” Vyrine nodded. “I was born in the countryside nearby the city, but I’ve lived inside the walls for almost my entire life.” “Really?” He said, looking somewhat surprised. “Where in the countryside? Not from Greyhill, by any chance?” “Actually, yeah, it was,” Vyrine replied. “No way!” Garvis exclaimed, with a wide grin. “I’m from there too! How come I’ve never seen you before?” “Well, we moved to the city when I was just two years old,” Vyrine shrugged. “So that was nineteen years ago. I don’t really have any memories of Greyhill.” “Ah, I see…” Garvis nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve lived in Greyhill all my life. Until I came here, anyway.” “Right… Say, you wouldn’t happen to be related to that Bralon fellow, would you?” Vyrine asked. “You kind of… look alike.” “I should hope so,” Garvis chuckled, “because he’s my father.” “Really?” Vyrine uttered, raising an eyebrow. “But Ordinators aren’t given leave, are they?” Garvis shrugged. “No, we’re not. He wasn’t involved in my upbringing, he joined the order before I was even born.” “That must have sucked, growing up,” Vyrine observed. “I can’t even imagine a childhood without my father around.” “Eh, it’s just how it was for me,” Garvis shrugged again. “I never really felt like I was lacking anything. Anyway, let’s show you your spot now, yeah?” Vyrine nodded, and the two stepped into the Aspirants’ dormitory. It was not a particularly large room, and the dozen beds in it did not leave very much space besides a path down the middle, through the two rows of beds. The far end of the room had a window in the middle of it. Each bed had a small nightstand beside it, which presumably held all of the possessions each of the Aspirants had. Garvis walked over to the fifth bed on the right and gestured at it. “This is your bunk,” he declared. “Your neighbours are Faldris and Thelse, you’ll meet them all later. That-” he pointed at the third bed on the left- “is my bunk. You might want to put any belongings you want to hold on to in the nightstand, because they’re going to take your stuff when you receive your attire. When you’re done, you should go find Curate Faver.” “Right, thanks for the heads-up,” Vyrine nodded. “I guess I’ll see you around, then?” “That you will,” Garvis agreed. “Catch you later, Vyrine!” And with that, he strutted back outside, presumably to get back to the rest of the Aspirants. Vyrine was left by herself, but considering she had not brought anything of any value with her, she followed Garvis out only a few moments later. Best not keep the Curate waiting… ---- Vyrine ascended the steps of the central staircase, but she was not sure what her destination was. She had asked an Ordinator where she could find Curate Faver, but she had not quite caught what he had told her… had he said fifth floor or sixth floor? She decided to check the fifth. After all, it was the first one she would reach. She stepped off the staircase into the octagonal entry hall of the fifth floor. Judging by the desk and bookshelves she spotted as she walked past a room with an open door, this floor was probably used for administrative purposes, under the jurisdiction of the Order of Doctrine and Ordination. Not the place she would have expected Curate Faver to be in, Vyrine thought, but she was new here, so there was no way she could be sure. Thus she kept wandering the hallways of the fifth floor in search of Curate Faver, or at least someone who could tell her where he was. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Vyrine heard voices further down the hallway, around the next turn. The voices belonged to two men, and they were constantly getting louder; they were walking in Vyrine’s direction. “...Won’t be a problem,” the deeper of the two voices spoke. “Duvas is a toady, he will keep his mouth shut.” “He better,” the other voice, which was more nasal, huffed. “A lot is riding on his silence. If that S’wit flaps his mouth open, then we’re all in deep trouble.” “You don’t need to tell me,” the deep voice sighed. “I certainly don’t wish to see this fail and-” At this point, the two men rounded the corner and saw Vyrine. They immediately shut up, poorly hiding their disconcertion over encountering the girl. “What are you doing here?” The one on the left, who turned out to be the one with the nasal voice, growled. The man was balding, and his goatee streaked with grey hairs. “Who are you?” “O-oh… um, I-I was just looking for Curate Faver and…” “Curate Faver is on the sixth floor,” ‘Nasal’ interrupted her. “You have no business here, Aspirant! I should report your misconduct to the High Ordinators!” “Now now, there is no need for that, she’s just lost,” ‘Deep’ tutted, making a dismissive hand gesture before turning to Vyrine. “Like he said, you can find Faver on the sixth floor.” “Now scram!” ‘Nasal’ ordered. Vyrine nodded and quickly took off in the direction she came from, her head full of thoughts as she went back to the stairwell. What had she just witnessed? What had they been talking about? Nothing good, she imagined… but she had been here less than a day. She was not going to make dangerous enemies this early. She decided to put it out of her mind, and hopped onto the stairs to get to the sixth floor. ---- Once Vyrine was on the sixth floor, it was not difficult for her to find Curate Faver. This was because she ran into him almost the second she got off the stairs. “Ah, Vyrine, there you are,” Faver said. “I was starting to wonder what was taking so long.” “My apologies, Curate,” Vyrine sighed. “I went to the wrong floor and got lost.” “I suspected as much. Now come, you will be issued your new clothes and gear.” Curate Faver led Vyrine along through the hallways, eventually stopping in front of a double door and pushing it open. Beyond was what seemed to be an armoury. On shelves suspended on the left wall, rows of the golden, mohawked face masks were stalled. Spears and shields were hanging in racks. Vyrine took in the impressive sight, and caught herself with her mouth agape. “It is not time yet for you to be granted the right to wear and wield those,” Faver informed her, curbing any potential false expectations. “For now, you’ll be given some appropriate clothing and such first.” Curate Faver excused himself and walked into a side chamber. He returned not a minute later, accompanied by an elderly woman - though she was clearly an Ordinator through and through. “This is Manciple Ivresa,” Faver introduced. “She oversees the armoury and our inventory of goods. She’ll get you properly outfitted.” “Alright girl, let me see you,” Manciple Ivresa said, stepping up to Vyrine and looking her over. “Hmm… small one, aren’t you?” “Why does everyone keep noting that?” Vyrine grumbled. “Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist, Aspirant,” Ivresa sighed, protruding a measuring tape. “Stand still.” The Manciple proceeded to take various measures of Vyrine’s body proportions. Vyrine just stood still and let her, occasionally raising an arm when instructed to do so. A minute or so passed until Manciple Ivresa seemed satisfied. “Very well, I should have something lying around that should fit you,” she decided. “Wait here.” Vyrine obliged and remained in her spot, while Manciple Ivresa shuffled back into the room Faver had fetched her from earlier. When she returned, she was holding a bundle of dark blue cloth. “Here, try this,” she said, handing Vyrine the bundle. Vyrine looked around her uncertainly. “Uhm…” Manciple Ivresa sighed. “There’s a dressing room behind that door. Leave what you’re currently wearing behind there, I’ll get rid of it.” Vyrine nodded slowly and stepped through the door into the cubicle. She unfolded the bundle and looked at what she’d been given. It was a set of robes, which would fall down to just below her knees. The symbol of the Almsivi was emblazoned in gold on the left breast. It also came with some white hoses and a pair of black shin-high boots. All in all, Vyrine thought, it was a pretty good-looking outfit. She quickly stripped out of her old tunic, eager to get into her new robes. When she stepped back out of the cubicle, Vyrine was still adjusting the robe, which was a little bit too large for her. Nonetheless, she wore it well. Manciple Ivresa, too, nodded approvingly. “That should do it,” the old lady decided. “My work here is done. I will see you again later, Aspirant.” And with that, she shuffled out of the room, leaving Vyrine with Curate Faver. “Excellent,” he said. “Now that you have your new robes, you just need one thing before you are ready to begin your training.” “Really? What’s that?” Vyrine asked, eager to get on with it. “The weapon all Ordinators carry,” he replied, walking over to a locker and opening it. “Each Ordinator is given an ebony mace upon their initiation, and they carry this weapon with them until their service ends. It is a badge of office, at least as much as the masks we wear in honour and imitation of Nerevar Moon-And-Star. I will give you yours now.” Vyrine’s eyes widened in eager anticipation as Curate Faver took one of the weapons from the locker and handed it to the Aspirant. Vyrine inspected the beautiful craftwork of the slender weapon. The silver etchings in the flanged head shimmered in the light of the overhead brazier. Vyrine felt the weight of the mace, and turned and twisted her hand to get accustomed to the feel of it. She eventually looked back up at Curate Faver, a wide grin on her face. The senior Ordinator smiled back at her and folded his hands behind his back. “Welcome to the order, Aspirant Vyrine.” Category:Blog posts